


amare sine timore

by asael



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 07:12:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9710408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asael/pseuds/asael
Summary: Adam visits Ronan at his new job and they take the opportunity to make some new and very inappropriate memories.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bucketmouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucketmouse/gifts).



> This fic is a birthday present for Kels, who is a wonderful and amazing person and a fantastic friend! I hope you like this part of your birthday gift. ♥ It's a little early, but hey - that's cool right?
> 
> The title means 'to love without fear'.

The rumors about the new Latin professor are varied and wild. The most popular one is that he’s there as part of a witness protection program - that explains everything. The tattoos, the scowl, the terrible attitude. Unfortunately, it doesn’t explain his uncanny skill at Latin, not the kind of talent mobsters usually have. He’s way better than the last professor, everyone knows. For awhile, though, ‘mobster in a witness protection program’ is the going theory.

Then someone finds an old Aglionby yearbook containing one Ronan Lynch, glowering at the camera the same way he glowers at his students, and the mystery - well, it isn’t _solved_ , really. It just turns into a different mystery. Professor Lynch isn’t in the witness protection program, so that makes him… what? Just a terrifying guy with a giant tattoo and a pet raven?

Half of his students hero-worship him, half are convinced he’s a serial killer, but all of them have to admit that he’s actually one of the most effective Latin professors they’ve ever had. His teaching style is unconventional, to say the least, but he makes Latin seem more like a real, living language than anyone has since, well, the Romans.

He’s a prime source of whispered rumors, though, given the mystery surrounding him. And today there’s a new reason to whisper, because halfway through the day someone else shows up, slipping in the door at the back of the classroom and leaning against the wall to observe. Professor Lynch stiffens noticeably, scowls, and then continues as if nothing has changed. He does not otherwise acknowledge or introduce their guest.

When class ends, the students file out, risking glances at both Professor Lynch and the mysterious guest, full of unanswered questions.

***

The room now empty, Ronan turns the full force of his glower on Adam - who, of course, is immune. Adam’s previously quiet and interested expression turns into an amused smile as he walks between the desks, pausing for a moment to run his finger across ‘AGLIONBY SUX’ carved into one.

“I never thought I’d see you in a classroom again, much less at the front of one.”

Truthfully, it’s strange to see Adam here, too. It sends Ronan back to years ago, to early mornings in this very classroom. Adam’s tired eyes, bruises on his skin, the way his eyebrows drew down with annoyance when Ronan was being particularly distracting. Stolen glances with more meaning than Ronan wanted to admit at the time.

It all feels like a lifetime ago, distant but still vivid. He can remember so clearly hating everything about this place, everything except Gansey’s friendship and the careful slope of Adam’s brow, the rush of victory when he made Adam laugh.

Adam’s eyes are no longer tired, except when he stays late at work or when Opal keeps him up asking for another bedtime story, and another, and another. There are no bruises on his skin, except the love bites Ronan leaves on his neck sometimes. He smiles more easily, he laughs with freedom.

His brows still draw down with annoyance in the exact same way, and Ronan sees that regularly enough, but now there’s far more of a chance that Adam’s lips will curl up into a reluctant smile at the same time.

“You didn’t have to see me in one now,” Ronan says, crossing his arms.

“Seriously?” Adam says, coming closer. “You didn’t really think I’d stay away just because you told me to. I gave you a couple months to settle in, but there’s no way I could resist dropping by to experience Professor Lynch in person. You’re just lucky I didn’t take any photos to send to Gansey.”

“Fuck you,” Ronan says, and he reaches out to snag Adam’s waist and pull him in for a kiss. It’s a rush, kissing him right here, in the same classroom where he spent a truly ridiculous amount of minutes thinking about kissing him instead of paying attention to the professor.

Adam kisses him back, a kiss that starts out as teasing and affectionate and quickly shades into something with a little more hunger in it. Ronan takes note of it, and when they part his smile is sharp.

“Hot for teacher, huh, Parrish?”

Adam rolls his eyes, but the tips of his ears are pink. “I just can’t believe you actually did this. You hated this place.”

Ronan shrugs. He did, but he hated a lot of things back then, including himself for awhile. He still has no desire to go back to school himself, and absolutely no desire to be a full-time professor, but coming in a couple times a week to teach a Latin class? Why the fuck not?

The Barns runs half on dreams, which means the actual work involved is far less than a normal farm - plus, Opal is now easily old enough to help out, and she likes doing it, and she has no desire to leave and pretend to be a human. Between her taking over more of the farm work and Adam having a full-time position at a research lab, Ronan had too much time on his hands. Dreaming only takes up so much time. So when he saw the position, he applied on a whim, and now here he is.

Adam knows all of that. Ronan doesn’t need to tell him, they discussed it before Ronan even applied. Adam had encouraged him, amused and a little bewildered.

“Not so bad now that I’ve got the power,” Ronan says with a sharp grin, and Adam laughs.

“You’re pretty good at it,” he says, and Ronan knows he wouldn’t say that if it weren’t true. Adam has never been the type for empty compliments - at least not with him. He shrugs and looks away, embarrassed for some reason, but there’s a warm glow of pleasure in his chest.

“Whatever,” he says. “Figures you’d like it, nerd.” The affection in his voice - well-hidden except to someone who knows him this well - makes Adam lean in for another kiss, this one just as hungry as the last. Ronan lets his hand slip beneath the hem of Adam’s shirt, settling his fingers against warm skin. “Knew you had a thing for teachers.”

“I just like seeing you do something you’re good at,” Adam says, just a touch defensive.

“Sure,” Ronan says, “and all those gushing emails about your dumbass professors in college were just because you admired their technique.”

“They were,” Adam says, offended, his tanned skin flushed a faint pink. “I think it’s really impressive when people have something they’re passionate about.”

“Uh huh.” Ronan tugs Adam to him, turning them around so Adam’s hips are pinned against the big oak desk that dominates the front corner of the room. Generally, Ronan uses it to lean against while he teaches, but he’s getting some new ideas. “So you never once fantasized about the hot young professor bending you over his desk. ‘Ooh, professor, teach me more about quadratic equations’, or whatever the fuck.”

His terrible falsetto fake-Adam voice has the edges of Adam’s lips quirking into an irresistible smile. “I took algebra in eighth grade, I promise you I didn’t think it was hot.”

“Shut up,” Ronan says, “I’m trying to seduce you, you shit.”

“Wow, you suck at it,” Adam says, and Ronan leans in and bites at his neck gently in retaliation. Adam’s soft gasp is immensely satisfying.

“Please,” he says, whispered in Adam’s ear, “half the reason I took this job was because I know learning and shit gets you hot.” He slips his leg between Adam’s, sliding his thigh up to press against him. “I saw the way you were watching me. I mean, we can stop and continue this at home -” he moves against Adam, pressing against the growing hardness in his jeans, and is rewarded by another gasp, “-or I can fuck you right here.”

Adam’s hand comes up to clutch at his arm. “Anyone could walk in,” he says, though it doesn’t sound like nearly as strong an objection as maybe it should be.

“Door’s locked,” Ronan says. “Half the staff’s in a faculty meeting. No one’s coming in here.”

“This is so inappropriate,” Adam says, but he kisses Ronan, rough and hungry, and Ronan knows that’s a yes.

Much as Ronan enjoys taking his time, exploring Adam and touching him in all the places that make him moan, by necessity they can’t do that kind of thing here. But it doesn’t matter, because any way that he can have Adam is enough, more than enough, and there’s something a little forbidden, a little sordid about fucking him in their old Latin classroom. Adam feels it too, already half-hard by the time Ronan gets his pants off.

He keeps Adam pressed against the desk at first, kissing him again and again, one hand wrapped around his cock. But Ronan is not known for patience or for self control, and soon he’s sliding his hands under Adam’s thighs, lifting him up so he’s sitting on the desk. Then he’s fumbling with his own zipper, enjoying the sight of Adam spread out on his desk, all tanned skin and freckles. He’s filled out from when they were in school, thanks to regular meals and not needing to work himself to the bone, but Adam’s fine bones mean he’ll always be on the slender side, thin wrists and prominent cheekbones.

He’s beautiful, which is something Ronan rarely says aloud but something that he often thinks about. Adam in the evening, orange light from the sunset picking out the lines of his face, Adam asleep, soft and relaxed, Adam angry and coldly furious at someone who’s insulted his family, his life, his choices.

Adam on his back on Ronan’s desk, legs spread, cock hard and dripping against his stomach, reaching out to draw Ronan closer.

Ronan has lotion, and that works well enough, considering neither of them planned for this. They probably should have, he thinks, in retrospect there’s no way he’d be able to keep his hands off Adam here. He may have teased Adam about teacher fantasies, but considering that Ronan is currently living out one of his top 5 bored-in-latin-class fantasies, he has no leg to stand on.

He’s hurried and eager, but Adam is too. He slides his fingers, slick with lotion, into Adam, and watches the look on his face, the soft ‘o’ that his mouth makes, as he curves his fingers to hit that spot inside of him. It would be nice to do this for awhile, but Ronan is well aware that he’s in his workplace. The door _is_ locked, but that doesn’t mean they have all the time in the world - and he doesn’t want to wait anyway.

He slides his fingers out and slicks himself up. Adam whispers something, _come on_ or _fuck me_ or _please_ , it doesn’t really matter what, only that he wants Ronan like he always wants him, with the same all-consuming need that Ronan always feels for him. Ronan pushes into him, one hand on the desk for balance and the other beneath Adam’s thigh, keeping him where he needs to be.

Adam moans, fingers tensing against the wood of the desk as his body adjusts to Ronan inside him. He’s so good, hot and tight, and Ronan only waits long enough to be sure he’s all right before beginning to move.

It’s fucking amazing, doing this, Adam all spread out on his desk, breath coming faster as Ronan fucks him, a stupid teenage fantasy come true. Ronan’s pleasure builds fast, this complex strange desire that starts with Adam Parrish and is fed by everything else - the two of them doing this, here, the taboo of it, his need. He can see it mirrored in every movement of Adam’s body, every soft sound from his lips. He can see how close Adam is.

It’s too much. He wraps his hand around Adam’s cock, drives into him once more, strokes him over the edge. Adam shudders and comes, biting the back of his hand to muffle any cry he might have made, and the look on his face is more than enough to destroy whatever remaining self-control Ronan had. He comes hard, buried inside Adam, the sheer pleasure of it overwhelming.

After, Ronan sneaks them into the staff bathroom to clean up. He can’t quite believe they did that, can’t quite believe _Adam_ did that, but the vivid red flush on Adam’s cheeks when Ronan teases him about his teacher kink is incredibly entertaining. They clean up all evidence of their indiscretion, kiss a little more, and Adam vows to never again visit Ronan at work.

Instead of leaving immediately, though, Adam and Ronan walk around the campus. Adam has been back only once or twice since graduation, for alumni events, and even then not in a few years. As they walk, Ronan remembers how much he hated the place, and how different it now feels. Now he has his life, he has his home, he has Adam. Aglionby isn’t a trap anymore, it’s just a place to spend some of his free time. 

It was never a trap for Adam, only a way out. Ronan watches him there now, see the memories on his face, and the whole place feels like it’s illuminated differently. This is, after all, where he first fell in love with Adam. Here, and Monmouth, and Cabeswater, and Aglionby is the only one of those that hasn’t really changed.

They go home eventually, and Ronan periodically teases Adam about the whole thing for sometime afterward. Adam protests, but never actually tells him to stop - though after awhile he does start fighting back by calling Ronan ‘Professor Lynch’ at the most inappropriate moments.

(Ronan secretly thinks it’s a little hot.)

***

Later, another student investigating the Mystery of Professor Lynch will find a photograph of Adam Parrish in the same yearbook Ronan’s photo was discovered in. This answers no questions, not until someone cleverly mentions his visit in biology class and old Professor Stevens is distracted from his lesson plan by waxing poetic about ‘the best student he ever had’, who supposedly had multiple Ivy League colleges fighting to the death to recruit him. 

More answers come to light when one student - smart, observant, totally uninterested in professor-stalking, and incidentally kind of an asshole (also incidentally, Ronan’s favorite) - points out acidly that Professor Lynch and Adam Parrish wore matching rings, what, you seriously didn’t notice? Idiots. 

In the end, this only adds to the Mystery of Professor Lynch, who is now not only terrifying and tattooed and really good at Latin, but also married to an apparent genius. (And, one or two boys quietly point out, they’re both really hot.)

Ronan never quite figures out why there’s a sudden uptick in people wanting to take Latin. It isn’t like he’s _nice_ to the students, and in fact is known for casually referring to them as ‘little fuckers’ when none of the other faculty can hear. But Adam thinks it’s hilarious, and the kids aren’t entirely shitty, and it gives him something to do. So whatever.


End file.
